


Stand

by Bandity



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Chronic Pain, Depression, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Incontinence, It's me so someone is going to puke, Langst, Major Character Injury, Minor Injuries, Near Death Experiences, Spinal Injury, Suicidal discussion, Team as Family, Vomit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-04 02:42:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13354806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bandity/pseuds/Bandity
Summary: Lance writes letters to help with his homesickness. After an injury, his letters become a source of solace during a difficult time.Based on a prompt from tumblr.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a prompt [here](https://banditywrites.tumblr.com/post/168143861830/thanks-when-lance-gets-homesick-he-writes-a). But I stray a little bit from that. 
> 
> I do research a lot, but I am not in the medical field, so please excuse mistakes. 
> 
> Please excuse typos and spelling errors. I was pretty sick.

 

It started on Lance's birthday. The other Paladins had done their best to make sure he had a great day.

And he did.

But it wasn't the same as being home. It wasn't even the same as being at the Garrison and receiving care packages from his family. It wasn’t the same as having a long video call with his mom and siblings, where his niece and nephew would sing happy birthday to him and ask him when he was coming home.

Lance's stomach clenched at the thought. 

After his space birthday was over, he lay in bed, trying to think of nothing, but he couldn't help that bit of sadness that kept sleep at bay.

Lance sat up with a sigh and an urge to do something. He slipped out of bed and went to his box of belongings, he still hadn't decided how to decorate his room or even if he wanted to. The game system was set up and that was enough of a personal touch for now.

He pushed past his birthday gifts in the box and scrabbled for the loose papers at the bottom of the container. It was mostly trash, but they were things that he had thought were interesting enough to count as souvenirs of his time in space. 

Wrappers from alien candies, flyers advertising events on other planets, scraps of posters of Zarkon that he and Pidge had drawn a mustache and horns on. He pulled out a menu he had kept from one planet's eatery. 

That wouldn't work.

A minute later he found a pamphlet about the care and keeping of what looked like two headed turtle gophers. In the back of the information section there were a few blank pages, presumably so an alien pet owner could keep track of their pet's complicated feeding schedule.

Lance found a writing utensil that an alien child had given him. It was much like a crayon, but the colors changed as you used it. Lance had loved it and he knew his niece would love it too. He had been saving it for her, but he could probably use it for a little while and it would still be okay. 

Lance stretched out on the floor on his stomach, kicked his feet in the air and began writing on the spare paper in front of him. 

_Dear Mom,_

He could feel a tightness grasp his throat but he pushed past it, forcing out words quickly and desperately. He told his mother that space was beautiful. So very beautiful and not to worry too much. He was okay. He was with his friends and they were all taking care of each other. He missed her and he would come home if he could, but he had to take care of things first. He went into some of the adventures they'd had. He tried to explain Voltron, but none of his words seemed good enough. He talked about the war and their battles. _Nothing too dangerous_ , Lance had lied. _Please don't worry_. 

He signed his name. For some time, he stared at his scrawl that covered both sides of the pages; the colors changing from black to blue to green and then purple. 

Lance trailed a finger over some of the words, imagining what his mom would think if she ever actually got such a letter from him. 

It was silly. Childish. 

But the act of writing it out had made him feel better overall. 

Sighing, but feeling lighter, he folded the papers and slipped them under his mattress.

That would have to be good enough for now.

 

* * *

 

Lance hadn't meant for it to become a habit. 

But sometimes the missions were hard and sometimes that achy, sick feeling crawled into his chest and pressed into his lungs and he just wanted to be able to breathe again.

Writing helped. He always could tell his mom anything and he knew his dad would want to hear about everything that was happening. His niece and nephew would beg him to tell them all about his adventures. His experiences would be bedtime stories for them and they would think their uncle was so cool. 

He wrote to them all, picking out what would be interesting to each of them and putting as much emphasis as he could in his writing. 

He ran out of scraps quickly and the crayon he was using started changing color less. He would have to replace it somehow. 

The next time they were at a market, he snuck away and bought stationary and pens. It had taken awhile to find what he was looking for. Everyone in the universe seemed to send messages digitally. But there was one little shop that seemed to believe in old fashioned letter writing.

His mother always loved getting cards and letters in the mail. He had always tried to send one to her whenever he could. 

Lance made up for lost time and then some.

The space under his mattress became filled with letters. To the point that he could hear the paper crease and crinkle when he rolled over at night. 

It was comforting in a way. The rustle of the papers reminding him that his family was waiting for his return. He knew that they missed him because he missed _them_ like crazy. 

Lance sighed as he drifted off to sleep. 

Too bad there wasn't a space post office out here.

 

* * *

 

Lance was up in the hangar walkway. It had seemed like a good vantage point when the fighting broke out on the Galra ship, but it was proving to be too out in the open. They were only holding this position until the rest of their team arrived. However, the Galra were shooting at Lance and he found himself a bit stuck. Shiro was on the ground, taking out the soldiers there. Lance needed to cover him until the others got here...

"Lance, you've got more coming your way," Shiro's voice sounded strained through the comlink.

Lance had fallen flat on his back, avoiding the fire, but he had been taking shots whenever he could. He craned his neck and saw soldiers climbing the ladders to the adjacent walkways. 

"I'm coming up,” Shiro said.

"I'll cover you," Lance rolled and was up on one knee, taking aim at anyone who would give Shiro any problems. 

Shiro was able to propel himself up to the end of the walkway, where he started dispatching the soldiers trying to get at Lance.

They were too close to Shiro.

While Lance was glad that Shiro trusted him to snipe enemies that were literally a foot from him, it did require a lot of concentration and a great deal of effort to push down that panicky feeling. Lance straightened up, getting a clearer angle of a soldier trying to get behind Shiro to attack. 

He was firing shots rapidly, grateful that the armor provided him with gloves that kept his finger steady, kept it from slipping off the trigger.

There was a harsh jolt and all of Lance's breath left him in a harsh _whoosh_. His legs were crumbling under him, he felt the railing press into his side and then the world turned upside down.

Lance distantly became aware that he had been shot in the back and he felt angry at himself, before his thoughts all scattered away.

Somewhere, Shiro shouted his name and then it all went dark.

 

* * *

 

Shiro had seen the soldiers shift from attacking him to going after Lance. Lance had taken out too many of them and they were becoming focused on the Blue paladin. He was too much of a threat and the Galra were surging toward him. Shiro did his best to keep them from cornering Lance, from trapping him, but it was becoming impossible. 

Shiro was going to call for a retreat, but there was a delay as he turned to check on Lance. Lance was firing at the soldiers trying to overtake Shiro, so intent on covering his leader that he didn't notice the other sniper.

Shiro's breath caught.

It was only for a split second. Shiro was already shouting Lance's name when the shot caught Lance in the back. 

It propelled Lance forward and over the railing of the walkway in an instant.

Shiro was already jumping to the floor below, kicking on his jetpack, shouting Lance's name the whole time.

He saw Lance hit the ground, heard a rush of air and a crunch sound from the comlink, before the signal cut out and Lance just lay there in a heap.

There wasn't time to assess him. Shiro grabbed him and dragged him to the corner of the room, pleading with him to be okay. 

Shiro was fighting hard, backed into a corner with Lance on the floor behind him, when their other team members finally arrived. 

The retreat went by in a frenzied blur. Shiro carried Lance out, with everyone surrounding him, beginning to panic, they were asking what had happened, but Shiro could only shake his head. They had to get out, they had to get to safety. 

"Shiro, his spine..." Pidge had been running diagnostics as she ran along and she had a grim expression on her face.

"We have the healing pods," Shiro answered sharply, "Keep moving."

Once in the Black lion, Shiro set Lance down as gently as he could on the floor and then they were flying away, back to the castle.

Shiro could hear himself reporting back to Coran and Allura, but he didn't know what he was saying. He had gone on autopilot as he tried to focus on flying and not the way Lance lay completely still, pale and silent. 

Shiro forced down the nausea building in his throat. 

They had the pods. This would be okay. 

And if it wasn't, it would be Shiro's fault.

Shiro gently landed his lion in its hangar and took several steadying breaths. He shut his eyes and tried to calm his racing heart.

"Sh... Sh'ro?" Lance mumbled. Shiro's heart leapt into his throat. He was so relieved to hear Lance's voice, but the pain lacing the words made him want to be sick again.

"Yeah, it's me. We're going to move soon, okay?" Lance's helmet had slipped off at some point and had rolled to the side. Shiro set a hand on the top of his head gently. Terrified now of putting pressure on anything and making the injuries worse. "Coran is bringing a stretcher." 

"...hurts..."

"I know, just hang on." Fingers carded lightly through Lance's hair. "You'll be okay."

"'S... bad?" Lance was trying to move his neck, to look at himself. But his effort was in vain as his head flopped uselessly.

"Hold still. Just hold still.”

Lance groaned. It must be bad then.

"Shiro?" Lance blinked hard, forcing his thoughts to link together and make sense. 

"Yeah?"

"There's a bunch of letters."

"What?" Shiro was pretty sure Lance had a concussion. There was blood dripping down the side of his face.

"Wrote letters for mom. Give them to her. They're... under m-mattress."

"Hey," Shiro made sure Lance was looking at him, though his expression was glazed over from pain. "You're going to give them to her yourself. You're going to be fine."

“'S'all cold...can't..."

Shiro shushed him. "You're going to be fine."

Shiro hated how hollow his own voice sounded.

It sounded like a lie.

 

* * *

 

Shiro asked about his spine as soon as they got Lance into a pod. It would be okay, right? The healing pods could fix it, right? It wasn't like an amputation or something that was too old to be healed. Lance would be fine.

Right?

Coran had gone strangely silent and Shiro realized how desperate he sounded. 

How guilty...

"Shiro," Coran was speaking slowly, as though he was choosing his words very carefully. "He's going to recover, but there was quite a bit of damage done. There is a chance that he will need time outside the pod to recover fully."

"But he will make a full recovery?"

"His chances are very good."

"Is he going to be able to walk when he wakes up?" Pidge asked bluntly. She had scanned Lance and, while she wasn't an expert, it hadn't looked good. Damage to the lower spine... Pidge was struggling to remember what it would mean. He would still be able to breathe and he would probably be able to move his arms, but there was bladder and bowel control and hips and legs to think about and Pidge couldn't remember what different vertebrae was connected to what and were Alteans even wired the same way? Did Coran actually know what he was talking about? 

Coran didn't answer her question immediately; instead he was studying her, trying to gauge her reaction. Maybe he really didn't know...

Hunk sucked in a loud breath. No one was sure if he was steeling himself or if he was about to burst into tears.

"I think it will be best to wait a few days and see how he's doing," Coran said in measured words.

"He can still pilot if he can't walk," Keith blurted out. It sounded harsher than he meant it to and he consciously lowered his voice and evened out his tone. "He can still pilot. He would still be a Paladin."

"Well, yeah, but there's a lot more to consider," Hunk was frowning deeply. "It would be hard and Lance... He’s not going to like it."

"Alright, alright," Shiro found calmness in the distress of the others. He didn't have time for guilt or fear when the others were so scared too. When Lance was going to be scared too. "Let's wait and see, before we start imagining the worst."

It had sounded easy enough and, at the time, it worked to get everyone to calm down. 

But as everyone settled back into their daily tasks there was an atmosphere of unease that permeated the castle. Allura hadn't had much to say, she said that she hoped Lance would recover quickly, but Shiro could see the worry in her expression. Not just from having a teammate injured, but from having a Paladin of Voltron down. A crucial warrior possibly _seriously_ injured. Maybe permanently so... 

"We will do what is necessary," Allura had said finally after a few days of waiting. And Shiro wasn't sure if she meant building wheelchair ramps around the castle or finding a new Paladin for Blue. Maybe she meant both were possible outcomes. Shiro didn't feel up to discussing it further. He'd been the steady leader for days and the waiting was catching up to him. 

He’d taken up going for walks around the castle, sometimes he visited Lance in the pod, but Lance often already had Hunk or Pidge or both of them visiting with him and Shiro felt like an outsider in those situations.

"Did you eat today?" Shiro asked as he came across Keith walking through the halls.

"I'm fine," Keith always responded automatically, not really answering the question and moving quickly before Shiro could focus his hyper concern on him.

It was during one of his walks that Shiro found himself in Lance's room. He sighed deeply and turned in a small circle, measuring the space between the bed and the complicated gaming system they had set up. If Lance's mobility was limited they might have to move the system. Lance might have trouble getting around it. 

Shiro's eyes landed on the unmade bed. It had been left exactly the way it was when Lance was called away for their last mission.

Shiro felt his stomach turn when he thought about what they would have done if it had been worse. If Lance had been killed...

He wouldn't have dared set foot in the room again. 

Lance's words suddenly resurfaced in his mind.

Well, he would have had to come in here at least one time...

Curious, Shiro lifted up Lance's mattress. The quiet of the room became stifling as he stared blankly. 

"Oh, Lance..." Shiro whispered under his breath. 

There were letters upon letters upon letters. Most were folded with the recipient's name on them, but some were left open and rumpled, as if he had been interrupted and shoved them under his bed in a hurry.

He saw one of many that was addressed to "Mama" and was followed by hastily written Spanglish that Shiro could only partly understand. 

_...No te preocupes, I'm okay, promise..._

Shiro let the mattress fall back into place, hiding the letters from view.

Shiro walked away.

Coran found him later, doing laps around the training deck. 

He watched him run for several dobashes, trying to decide if the water on his face was sweat or tears. 

"Shiro," Coran called carefully, not knowing if Shiro had seen him, not wanting to startle him when he was obviously stressed enough. 

Shiro stumbled to a halt, looking genuinely surprised that Coran was there. Shiro tucked away the edge of panic and fear that had crossed his face.

It was only Coran. Nothing to be jumpy over. No reason for his heart to beat like that.

"It's dinner time and I thought I should let you know that the others aren't likely to eat without you present."

“Right, right," Shiro hadn't realized how much time had passed. "I'll be there soon." Shiro wiped the sweat from his brow and began to walk on shaking legs. 

"I will go gather the others then."

"Thanks," Shiro said, though he was frowning at his unsteady legs as though they were personally betraying him. "I'll be right there."

 

* * *

 

Dinner was quiet that night, it had been that way for a few days now. Lance's empty chair constantly reminding them that they were incomplete.

"You know," Coran broke the silence, "I did a scan today and it looks like Lance will be ready in about 40 vargas. Once he is awake, we will have a better idea of how to proceed.” 

There was a brief pause and then everyone started talking at once. Pidge and Hunk started asking questions about Lance's healing process without giving time for Coran to answer and Keith was asking Allura what time that would be during the day. 

Shiro forced a smile.

"Alright, guys, Coran's already told us that we'll have to wait for Lance to wake up before we have a better idea of the situation."

The others went quiet, but they seemed to be more hopeful. Glad to have news of when Lance would be returning to them.

Shiro forced a smile at them all, ignoring the feeling of dread that had coiled in his gut.

Just 40 vargas to go...

 

* * *

 

Lance collapsed so quickly out of the pod that Hunk was only able to grab his arm before his friend hit the floor.

A chorus of swear words came from multiple mouths. Coran said something they had never heard before, but then he was there, kneeling next to Lance.

"Let go of his arm, give him a tick." Coran gently guided Lance so that he was lying flat on his back. Lance's eyes had gone wide as he cast them around the room, he didn't seem to know what was going on. While he didn't cry out, his chest heaved as he took in deep breaths, he sounded like he was having trouble breathing.

"Lance, do you know where you are?" Coran leaned in, trying to get Lance to focus on him.

"... P-pods," Lance mumbled after a moment.

"Yes, good. Do you remember what happened?"

"Jerk shot me in the back." Lance was moving his arms now, rubbing sluggishly at his face. 

Shiro felt the tiniest bit of tension release from his chest. 

At least Lance could move his arms.

"That's right and you fell," Coran reached over and put pressure on Lance's knee. 

"I fell?" Lance furrowed his brow. "Don't remember..."

"You hit your head. It's perfectly normal." Coran tapped Lance's knee. "Do you feel that?"

"Yeah," Lance was beginning to sound more awake and with his awareness, fear began creeping into his mind. This was weird. They were all acting weird. He tried to move to sit up and he felt a tightness in his back and a dull ache that ran up his spine. Coran set a hand on his shoulder.

"Easy, easy," Coran slowly propped him up into a sitting position. Lance looked around at the concerned faces. Hunk looked like he was going to cry and Pidge was biting her lip. Shiro was scowling at him like he was trying to figure something out. It wasn't the warm welcome he would have expected after coming out of a pod. 

Coran moved to his other leg and put pressure all the way down to Lance's foot.

Lance kept repeating that yes, he felt that. It felt a bit detached, but he definitely felt it. 

Soon, Lance was wiggling his toes and rotating his ankles, he bent his knees and everyone in the room gave a collective sigh of relief. 

Their relief lasted up until Lance was gingerly being helped to standing. 

The pain definitely flared up then and Lance doubled over, saved from falling on his face by Coran. He felt unsteady. His legs were responding and he could definitely feel everything, but it was sluggish and it _hurt_. 

Hunk was at his side then, murmuring encouragement quietly.

"You're alright, you're okay, man. Just take a breath."

"Lean on us. Let's try to walk a bit. Ready? One step and just one more..." Coran kept saying 'just one more' until Lance was pretty sure he had taken a thousand steps. Though really it was only the length of the room. 

It was a long trip to the exam table. 

"Coran?" Allura tried to interrupt the process at one point. "Did it heal incorrectly?" 

"He's fine. He just needs time. Just one more step here..."

Shiro's mouth pressed into a thin line as he moved along after their slow moving group. 

He didn't miss the way Lance was grimacing and the noises of discomfort he was making with every movement. 

When they finally got to an exam table, Coran cleared the room, saying Lance needed a little space. Hunk and Shiro stayed behind. Hunk had to stay because Lance had a death grip on his friend's shirt and he wasn’t letting go anytime soon. Lance's knuckles had gone white from the strain of it.

Coran spent several moments running a scan and moving Lance's legs one way and the other.

"Humans are not the same as Alteans." Coran announced suddenly. Hunk raised an eyebrow.

"Well, yeah. Is that a problem?" Hunk tried to ease Lance's fingers from his shirt, but Lance slightly shook his head so Hunk left it alone.

"It's not a problem, but your spines aren't as malleable. They're a bit stiffer. Still flexible, but different from an Altean's.” 

"What does that mean for Lance?" Shiro asked and he felt like he maybe didn't want to know the answer.

"Everything the pods know about humans come from you. They do their best to cure your injuries, put everything back the way it was. But you are the first spinal injury. Pidge supplied me with everything she knew about human spines and I've been monitoring you carefully this whole time. The pods repaired the damage, but it doesn't seem to be as strong as before. An Altean spine would have most likely been fine. But you're going to have to build that strength back up." Coran paused, surveying Lance with a touch of sadness that he hid away when Lance looked up to catch his eye. "You are healed. You just need to relearn a few things. Get your strength back."

"It hurts," Lance admitted and he looked embarrassed at the admission.

"Extensive injuries will still sometimes hurt, even after the cryopods. But you're going to be fine."

Coran went on to talk about physical therapy and stretches and limiting Lance's activities and all the while he kept insisting Lance was going to be fine. 

Lance felt the pain in his back sharpen, protesting at his slightly hunched position on the table.

Shiro was talking now, planning times for physical therapy and different training regimes for Lance. 

"How long will he have to do physical therapy?" He sounded like a leader, stoic and professional. Figuring out what would be best for the entire team. 

"Difficult to say. I think we'll know more in a few days. Make sure he has full control of his bladder and his bowels first."

Lance finally let Hunk hold his hand and Lance squeezed his fingers tightly.  

"Do you think he will be able to get to Blue if he needs to?"

"That is something we will have to wait and see." Coran patted Lance's knee. "Perhaps some braces would be best."

Lance was crying into Hunk's shoulder before he could stop himself.

"It's okay, you're okay," Hunk whispered into his hair. Hunk gently wrapped his arms around Lance, careful not to put any pressure on his back.

Lance cried harder.

It felt like nothing had been less okay.

 

* * *

 

Shiro was an idiot. 

He couldn't believe how wrong everything had gone so quickly.

And it was his fault. 

He shouldn't have overwhelmed Lance with plans. He should have given him time to process that he was hurt and that it was going to take time. 

He should have protected him from being shot in the first place. 

Shiro knew his own reactions were because he was being selfish, focused on protecting himself from fear and worry. He had tried to be a leader, make a plan, fix it. If he fixed it, if he solved it fast enough, then he could keep all that sense of failure away, but he had just made it worse. 

Hunk took Lance back to his room with some food and painkillers in hand. 

As they walked away, Shiro noticed that Lance already seemed to be a bit steadier on his feet, as though his legs were finally waking up from the pod. But now, Lance wasn't in any state to discuss anything.

He needed to process. 

Coran said that his head injury was probably making everything a little fuzzy as well.

Lance needed rest. 

Shiro was going to be sure that he got everything he needed. 

Shiro went for a walk, taking time to think and breathe. As soon as he worked through enough of his own guilt, he went to check on Lance. 

Lance was sound asleep, flat on his back in his bed while Pidge and Hunk played that video game of theirs on mute. They paused when Shiro walked in. Shiro motioned towards Lance. 

"Is he feeling any better?"

"Nope," Pidge turned back to the game and resumed playing. 

"He's just slept this whole time. We've been waking him up to stay hydrated, but he hasn't said much. I couldn’t get him to eat earlier."

"Right," Shiro shuffled from one foot to another. "Can you come get me, when he wakes up? I... I need to apologize."

"You could sit, if you want," Pidge suggested, not looking away from the screen.

Shiro considered it for a moment and then sat down between the two of them. Hunk offered him a smile, but Pidge was too focused to acknowledge Shiro further.  

He watched them both play for a while, until they made it to the next level. 

"I'm sorry about what happened. I didn't handle it right," Shiro admitted, because he could feel the tenseness in the room. He hoped they weren’t angry at him, but he wouldn't blame them if they were.

"Hunk told you that Lance wouldn't like it. Though it should've been obvious. Nobody wants to be told they might not be able to walk right or that they might be pissing and shitting themselves for the rest of their lives." Pidge hit the controller buttons with more effort than she needed to. 

"I didn't think it through completely. I am sorry about that."

Pidge nodded, but didn't say anything else. 

"It's okay, Shiro." Hunk shrugged, "Nobody's perfect. It's hard when you're trying to care about everything at the same time. It's kind of scary." 

"Yeah," Shiro ran his hand through his hair. "Scary," he agreed.

Pidge sighed heavily. "You're too focused on the big picture. Lance doesn't need a leader, Shiro. He needs a friend. Well, family, really," Pidge tucked her knees under her chin. "But he'll have to make do with us."

The image of letters upon letters flashed through Shiro's mind, as he glanced quickly over at Lance's bed.

"I can do that," Shiro said.

Pidge huffed out a dry laugh as she leaned back into Shiro's shoulder. "Yeah, I know you can."

 

* * *

 

Lance actually felt a bit better when he woke up. Pidge, Hunk and Shiro were all there to greet him quietly. They all seemed rather subdued. Lance had a clearer head now and he felt embarrassed. He had cried while Hunk walked him to his room and he was pretty sure the rest of his team had seen him in the hallway. He had heard Allura say something at one point and that was mortifying too. 

He was going to have to work extra hard to not be a burden to his team now.

"How are you feeling?" Shiro asked.

"... Little better, I guess."

"Can you sit up? Here." Shiro moved to support Lance into a sitting position, but Lance didn't find the movement too difficult. He just felt sore, it was manageable. Maybe this wouldn't be as bad as they thought.

"You should eat something," Hunk declared. "Anything you want, I'll make it."

"That's fine, space goo is okay."

"Alright, coming right up." Hunk turned to leave and Pidge moved to follow him.

"I'll go with you. We'll be right back," Pidge elbowed Shiro and gave him a knowing look. He nodded slightly. She was giving him time to have a word with Lance and sort things out.

Once they were left alone, Shiro cleared his throat. 

"Can I sit?" He asked. Lance nodded, motioning to the end of the bed. Shiro thought he heard the slightest crease of paper when he sat and it made him want to stand up again. He wasn't sure if Lance remembered telling him about the letters, he felt like it was something personal that Lance would not have shared normally. Shiro decided to leave that alone for now. It was Lance's outlet and it wasn't hurting anyone, though it was heartbreaking in its own way.

"Lance, I'm really sorry about the way I handled your injury."

"Shiro, no. It's not your fault. Voltron is the most important thing. I get it. I-"

"No, wait, Voltron is important, but your wellbeing is important too." Shiro rubbed hard at his forehead. "Look, I was so focused on fixing it, that I didn't give you any time to adjust or even talk. So I'm sorry. Coran is sorry too. He wants you to be okay. We all do."

"It's fine, Shiro," Lance said after a moment. "I know you're doing your best."

Shiro breathed out. He should be comforting Lance, not the other way around. 

"Thank you," Shiro smiled sadly at Lance and he felt suddenly grateful that they were even having a conversation. When Shiro had seen Lance fall from the walkway, he thought he was dead and he hadn't even been able to process that during the fight.

"When you're feeling better, we can talk more about mobility options and training programs. We'll have a better idea in a few days anyway."

"Yeah," Lance said absently as he began to push back his blankets.

"Hey, what's going on?"

"I have to pee. Like, right now." Lance had become a bit frantic as his legs dragged and refused to cooperate fast enough.

"Alright, hang on, I got you." Shiro stood and helped to pull Lance into a standing position. With a firm grip on his elbow, Shiro led Lance to the small attached bathroom. 

Lance's walking seemed better overall and Shiro hoped again that a lot of Lance's sluggishness before was due to having just woken up from the pod. 

Lance stumbled away from Shiro and into the bathroom. The door slid closed with a _whoosh_ and Shiro was left standing alone. He sighed and leaned against the wall, preparing to wait.

"Damnit," he heard Lance curse under his breath. 

"You alright?" Shiro asked, trying not to sound too alarmed. He was met with silence. "Lance?"

"Can you go get Hunk?" Lance sounded like he was fighting to keep his voice even. 

"What happened? Can I do anything to help?" 

"No, just get Hunk, please." Lance's voice definitely wavered at the end.

"Okay, okay, I'll be right back."

Shiro didn't have to go far, Hunk and Pidge were out in the hall, already on their way back. 

"Lance?" Hunk called through the door. "I'm coming in, okay?"

Hunk disappeared through the bathroom door and Shiro heard hurried talking before Hunk popped his head out again. 

"Pidge, sorry, could you step out for a minute?"

"Yeah," Pidge left without argument, though she looked concerned.

"He had an accident," Hunk explained quickly. "I told him it was probably nothing to worry about, but he's pretty upset." Hunk crossed the room and pulled a change of pajama bottoms from a storage cabinet. 

"Should I go?" Shiro hadn't missed the fact that Lance had called for Hunk and not him.

"No, I think it's okay. Just give him some time."

Shiro nodded and remained where he was, feeling useless. In the past few days he should probably had gotten used to the feeling by now.

If he could just actually do _something_.

_Patience yields focus._

Shiro took several deep breaths, centering himself. 

_Don't panic. He will be alright._

When Lance and Hunk emerged from the bathroom, Lance was wearing clean pajamas and staring at the floor. Shiro smiled carefully at him. 

"Don't worry about it. You'll feel better after you eat something."

Lance worked up a forced half smile before Hunk helped him back to the bed. The paper shoved under the mattress rustled, but Hunk didn't seem to notice the sound.

Shiro ignored the dread twisting in his gut. 

This was going to be a long road back, but it was going to be okay. 

Lance could do this.

 

* * *

 

Lance didn't train with the others. He did stretches and he walked and he did light exercises, but that was it. He couldn't fight. 

Coran gave him a bunch of medicine to take. Something for pain, something to encourage further healing and a few pills to help with bladder and bowel control. 

Lance was mortified, but after a week, he got used to just spending more time going to the bathroom, waiting out his bladder to make sure it was empty before he went about his day. He was almost used to the others asking about it too. 

Though not really.

He didn't want to have any more conversations about incontinence with Pidge ever again. Ever.

The fact was that things weren't going back to normal. 

Lance couldn't move the way he used to. He couldn't strain himself and nearly everything felt like a strain. Also, his back _hurt_. 

It never really went away, except for the few times Coran had upped his painkiller dosage and in those moments, everything went a little fuzzy and he usually just stared at the ceiling until he fell asleep. 

Throughout it all, Lance continued writing letters.

But they had changed.

It hadn't been a conscious decision on his part. He stopped writing to his extended family and began writing mostly to just his mother and father. Mainly his mom. 

In his letters he admitted that he had been the one that broke the kitchen window that time and he accidentally smashed the porch light and then blamed the neighbor kids that other time....

_Mom, I did everything I could. Please don't be sad if I don't make it back. I tried really hard..._

Lance thought about the shot that had done so much damage, that could have ruined everything.

_Mom, please know that I love you..._

* * *

 

They were having a debriefing with Lance lying flat on his back on the lounge floor. Lance hadn't been part of the mission and he was now just listening in on the intel they had gathered without him. His back was bothering him and he was waiting for some assistance with a few stretches.

He maybe also needed some assistance getting up off the floor. 

Soon, Hunk worked his way over and sat down by Lance's feet. He rotated Lance's ankle and Lance moved on automatic. It was routine now. He stretched one leg and then the other, listening to the others speak, as he worked through the stretches.

Everyone seemed to be getting used to it. It was just normal now.

Lance hated it.

 

* * *

 

Lance listened to the chatter on the coms. He was sitting on the bridge, trying to help take down Galra fighters, but it wasn't the same as being in his lion, as being with his team. 

Coran and Allura were focused on the battle they had found themselves in. There would be a wormhole opening soon. Escape was their goal. Unable to form Voltron, there wasn't much more they could do in a fight. Lance felt guilt twist in his gut, even as the pain flared up in his back, protesting his hunched over position.

"Sit up straight, Lance," Coran called absently. The entire team had started doing that. Making sure Lance sat with a straight back. The good posture was wearing on him.

Lance sat up and he grimaced at the ache there. 

He frowned deeply and continued trying to help. It was all he could do now to keep his friends safe. 

It was all he could do to not be useless.

 

* * *

 

Lance begged Shiro and Coran to clear him for flying. 

Shiro finally relented and Coran said some practice runs would probably be fine. 

As they all flew out together, Shiro eyed the Blue lion nervously. Blue was doing slow loops through space and Lance was letting out whoops of joy over the comlink. 

"Go easy," Shiro warned through a private feed.

"Copy," Lance announced cheerily as he flew upside down.

"Lance," Shiro warned.

"I'm fine. We're being careful."

Shiro sighed. His own anxiety had skyrocketed and his heart rate was still pounding.

_He's okay. Blue will take care of him._

They went through some easy flight patterns. Things that they all knew how to do, but Shiro could feel the excitement and the relief of the others. 

They were happy to have Lance back, flying with them. 

This was progress.

 

* * *

 

Lance wrote a letter to Hunk first. 

It contained a lot of thank yous and instructions on what to do with the rest of the letters.

 _I couldn't have asked for a better best friend_...

Lance signed it and placed it in an envelope. He took time to write Hunk's name carefully on the front of it and then slid it underneath the mattress, right near the edge. 

Lance's spine twinged and he absently rubbed at his back. 

It was interesting how he was getting used to the consistent pain.

It was a part of him now.

 

* * *

 

It was one of the first fights that Lance had been able to participate in and he was under strict instructions to remain on the cliff's edge, far from the actual battle. Hunk was not far, keeping an eye on Lance's blindside and keeping all Galra away from the cliff. 

That had been the plan.

However, there were more soldiers than Lance could take out and they were starting to become overwhelmed.

Shiro called for a retreat much sooner this time. 

"Lance, let's go!" Hunk was shouting. Lance took a few more careful shots at the soldiers that were closing in on Pidge. He ducked away, ignoring the protest of his back as he ran for Blue. Hunk was running through the forest, not far from him. Even though he had taken extra painkillers right before the fighting, Lance was feeling the way his back was being jarred. His spine hadn't liked his sniper position apparently. The rush of the battle, the exertion and the pain all rolled together, making Lance feel nauseous. The extra dosage of painkillers could easily be making him feel ill as well. Lance bit his lip and forced his stomach to behave. There wasn't time to be sick, he had to run, he had to get to Blue, he had to-

Something large slammed into Lance's side and sent him flying to the ground. A crushing weight landed on him and he couldn't help the scream that escaped from his lungs. 

Sharp pain shot up his back and made his vision black out. There were Galra fists on him, some soldier who had lost their weapon in the fight, but was intent on beating Lance to death. The attack only lasted a few moments before Hunk was yelling and the weight was gone from on top of Lance. 

The pain continued and Lance choked from the sharpness of it. 

 _No no no no no_.

Something must have been damaged. He must have ruined something in his back. What if he was really paralyzed this time?

Lance threw up in the dirt.

Hunk was back then, turning Lance's head to the side. Carefully, carefully.

Lance heard him calling into his comlink, “Shiro, what do I do? What do I do?” Hunk was panicking.

"Lance, can you move your legs? Can you walk? I'll be there right now. Just hang on." Shiro was rambling in his ear.

This was only the second time Lance had heard Shiro sound that scared.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next part isn't completely written. And that's a bit scary for me. I worry about posting when the next chapter isn't done. Probably will be a week before the next part gets posted. We will see how that goes. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added some tags, please look them over, if you have triggers. 
> 
> Please excuse mistakes. I wanted to get this posted. 
> 
> I've gone back and read it through now, caught some obvious mistakes and an instance of me just putting words together in a random order. Thank you all for reading this and enjoying it anyway.

 

Coran would later admit that when they put Lance back in the pod, it had been in a bit of a state of panic. Lance could move his legs, but he couldn’t walk upright. Hunk carried him into the infirmary and Lance had gone so pale from pain that Coran could only think to put him in a pod quickly to give him some respite from it. 

He had scanned him then and seen that Lance had aggravated his injury and torn a muscle in his lower back. 

Lance had over exerted himself. Even with stretching every day, his flexibility had decreased throughout his recovery process. A jolting movement could easily result in strains and tears in the muscles.

"He shouldn't have been in the fight." Shiro was staring at the pod gravely, his face set in a deep frown. 

"He wanted to fight," Keith answered quickly. Honestly, Keith had been watching Shiro beat himself up over Lance's injury for weeks and it was starting to irritate him. 

"I should have told him to stay behind. He wasn't ready."

"Shiro, he would have been fine, if that one soldier hadn't gotten to him." Keith had crossed his arms, preparing for an argument. Lance wanted to help. It wasn't anyone's fault.

But Shiro was shaking his head. "The Galra aren't going to take it easy on him, I should have been there. I shouldn’t have let it happen."

"The Galra aren't easy on any of us and you didn’t _let_ it happen."

Shiro exhaled, attempting to release the tenseness in his shoulders.

"Hunk's in the lounge by the way,” Keith changed subjects, Shiro needed to focus on something else now. “He's crying. Pidge is with him, but you should probably talk to him. He thinks it's _his_ fault."

Shiro turned slightly, his eyes lingering on Lance's still form. "I'll go talk to him." Shiro nearly made it to the door before Keith spoke again. 

"When are you going to stop blaming yourself for his injury?"

Shiro paused and he glanced back at Keith, who was still facing Lance's pod. 

"You'll understand someday." Shiro stepped through the door, not waiting for Keith's response. 

Keith tapped his foot in agitation. He had already told Shiro, he wasn't going to lead Voltron. He frowned, studying the peaceful expression on Lance's face. 

"You need to hurry up and heal. Really heal. Team needs you, y'know?" Keith sighed, realizing he hadn't seen Lance looking that relaxed in a long time. Pain had a way of putting strain on someone's face, even if they thought they were used to it. 

"Feel better, Lance." 

Keith walked from the room, not looking back again.

 

* * *

 

_Mullet,_

_Do me a favor and keep an eye on Hunk and Pidge? I know you're Mr. Cool Loner or whatever, but be sure to talk to them and keep an eye on them. They're awesome people and I know they think of you as a friend. So remember that._

_You are actually a good fighter, so use that to take care of everyone._

_I know you'll be okay no matter what..._

* * *

 

"The brace will help."

Lance actually glowered. He had been out of the pod for a day, before Shiro and Coran had brought him back to the infirmary to have this discussion with him.

"Look, you don't need braces on your legs, but a back brace will help." Shiro was trying his best to be understanding, but Lance needed to see why this was necessary now. 

Coran was holding the brace aloft. It was a simple back brace that would wrap around his middle. It was small enough to wear under his shirts, it wouldn’t be obvious.

"I can make it blue, if that will help?" Coran tried. 

Lance's eyes softened at that. He looked down at the floor; Shiro didn't miss the defeated expression that crossed his face briefly before he forced a fake smile and looked back up at Coran.

"It's fine. Sorry, I'll wear it."

"It will only be sometimes, Lance. Whenever you feel like you need the extra support." Shiro was studying the boy, looking for that crushed look underneath his mask.

"That's fine. No problem."

Lance gingerly slipped off the exam table. He was really getting tired of spending time in the infirmary. 

Lance took the brace from Coran, just managing to keep his smile as he exited the room.

He couldn't stop crying when he wrote his letters that night.

* * *

 

_Shiro,_

_Sorry for being such a pain. I am grateful for your help. You are a great leader and I always looked up to you. I know you'll take care of everyone, so please do that, but take care of yourself too! You worry so much._

_Maybe take a day off. You can use any of my face mask stuff, I won't need them anymore..._

* * *

 

Lance started staying in his room between meals and training. He slept a lot, but he played games with Pidge when she would come around. Hunk always showed up at the scheduled time to help with stretches and try to get Lance involved in group activities, but Lance was rarely interested anymore.

He tried to join in a movie night once, but something about sitting on the couches hurt his back after about an hour. He had to get up and move to the floor, where he stretched out flat on his back and waited for the pain to subside. It wasn't fun and it was near impossible to keep up any cheerful conversation about the movie.

He wasn’t going on missions anymore. Training was just walking and stretching. Even though he had tried so hard, he’d become useless. It hadn’t mattered how hard he had worked. They were too afraid to let him really join in.

The days became monotonous.  He slept, ate, stretched, barely trained and he wrote. He wrote more and more letters. Frustration, grief and pain all got written down and shoved under his mattress, out of the way, not to be thought about again until the next bout of writing. 

He was tired. He didn't sleep well. Sometimes it was because he was hurting, but other times it was because of nightmares. 

Nightmares of the initial incident, nightmares of waking up paralyzed...

Lance started keeping more and more to himself. It was too hard to keep up a front and a fake smile and pretend it was fine.

He wasn't okay.

* * *

 

Lance woke up from a nightmare about falling with his back screaming and his lungs empty. He flailed in fear. His lungs, his lungs, parts of the spine carried messages to the brain for breathing. What if he had done something wrong? Injured it during a stretch? Slept on it weird and now he couldn't pull in any air? He would die right here.

Wait, his arms could move, his legs could move, he was sitting up, his lungs should work. Concentrating hard he took in a deep gulp of air. It wasn't so successful.

_You can breathe, you can breathe..._

Lance tried again. Sucking in oxygen greedily, expanding his lungs... Yes, he had air.

Lance collapsed back onto his bed, feeling the sweat drenching his clothes, making the fabric stick to his skin. 

That wasn't just sweat.

"Shit," Lance exhaled. 

He had been doing so well. The medication Coran had given him helped out a lot. But his bladder didn't always seem to get the signal when to contract and when to not. And when he woke up, he was so freaked out about breathing that he must have pissed himself without even realizing it.

_This is so stupid._

Furious with himself, Lance forced back the blanket and stumbled out of bed. He went to the bathroom to clean himself up, ignoring the way his spine protested. He'd probably done too much in training earlier. Shiro had warned him against running after the others. He’d probably twisted wrong or something.

_Stupid, lousy..._

He changed into clean clothes and then tore the sheets off the bed. 

The sound of paper ripping stopped Lance mid motion.

Half a sheet of paper was sticking out from the mattress; it had gotten caught in the fitted sheet and ripped down the middle when he pulled it from the bed.

"No, no, no...."

The last letter he wrote to his mom. He'd ruined it.

Lance pulled it from its place, careful not to damage it more. He slowly straightened up as best he could.

He could fix it. He needed to fix it. 

Lance walked as quickly as he could from the room. 

* * *

 

Lance was poking around Pidge's desk. Surely, Pidge had tape, right? He just needed a little, so that his letter would be in one piece. He thought briefly of rewriting it, but he had written a lot, both sides of the page were filled and he only had so much stationary left. It had been ages since they had been to a planet that sold the stuff. 

"Lance?"

Lance would have jumped if he was able to, instead he flinched and grimaced.

"Coran?" His voice sounded a lot weaker than he meant it to. "Why... What are you doing here?" Lance asked.

"I promised Shiro I would check to make sure Pidge wasn't sleeping in here again." Coran glanced around as if Pidge might be passed out in one of the room’s corners. "What brings you here so early in the morning? Nobody else is awake yet,” Coran asked casually.

Lance couldn't really hide it; the letter was still in his hands, out in the open. Lance slowly held up the paper, not making eye contact with Coran.

"I broke something," Lance mumbled.

"Broke... some paper?" Coran raised an eyebrow.

Lance nodded. "I was looking for tape." 

Coran stepped forward and Lance pulled the letter close to his chest on reflex. Coran hesitated and then smiled.

"I think I have something that will work. Want to walk with me?"

Lance nodded and followed the Altean out. They walked all the way to Coran's room and Lance felt like he should be more embarrassed about the letter than he was. But this was Coran. Coran was always trying to help him. He wouldn't make fun of him.

Lance handed the letter over, casting his eyes down to the floor. The Altean carefully secured the two sides together, using a bit of Altean glue. The rip was still noticeable, but the paper was in one piece again. 

"Lance, may I ask what this is?" Coran regarded the paper curiously.

"It's a letter... for my mom.” Lance swallowed. “I just, I know it doesn't make sense. I know there's no way to get it to her, I just, I can't help it. I want her to know. I need her to know..." Lance’s voice caught.

"Alright." Coran handed the letter back. 

"Don't tell anyone? Please?" Lance's lip actually wobbled at the request. 

"I won't," Coran held up both hands, "though I don't think it's really that strange at all."

"You don't?"

"No, dear boy. I really don't."

Lance rubbed his eyes, tears of relief springing up unexpectedly. “Thanks, Coran.”

“You’re welcome, my boy.”

* * *

 

They had been gaming for a few hours and Shiro was probably going to show up soon and force them both out of the room. But for the moment, Pidge and Lance were concentrating on the current level. 

Sitting on the floor wasn't the best position and Pidge had noticed the way Lance was fidgeting. 

He was wearing his brace today, though that was supposed to help support him when he moved, she wasn't sure how much good it did for him to just sit on the floor, hunched over and cursing softly at the screen.

Pidge and Hunk would have to design some sort of gaming chair for him. That would probably be better. She didn't want to stop playing. Partly because this was the most enthusiastic she had seen Lance in a while and a little bit because she wanted to get to the next level. They kept dying though and it was starting to become frustrating. 

"I never got this far when I was a kid!" Lance complained when they died for the 22nd time. 

"Matt and I did, but I don't remember how."

Well Matt had managed it, but Pidge had been a very astute observer at the time. She should know how to pass this level.  

Lance rubbed absently at his back.

"Need a break?" Pidge asked casually. Lance's mouth quirked into a frown, but he smoothed it away quickly. 

"Just gotta pee," Lance set his controller down and stood slowly, taking the time to feel out each movement. He stretched once he was standing and when nothing protested too much, he moved to the bathroom.

Pidge had probably known the most about incontinence, she had known the word for one thing, which was better than most of the team. But whether it was because she was a girl or just younger, or maybe both, Lance never talked about bathroom issues with her. So she didn’t bring it up anymore. She knew the drill though. Lance always took a long time going to the bathroom now. Pidge set her controller down and shifted over to rest her back against Lance's mattress.

Leaning her head back, she was startled by a rustling sound and the sensation of a paper’s edge jabbing her in the neck. 

She turned to look, noticing the corner of something white sticking out from underneath the mattress. Without much thought, she pulled it from its place. It was an envelope with Hunk's name written across it. 

Pidge frowned. She lifted the mattress slightly to put it back. And she would have done just that, if she hadn't noticed her own name on a piece of paper. 

There were other letters too. At least one for all of them and… what the hell was going on? What was all this? 

Pidge scanned the page of the one addressed to her.

_Guess I'm gone, if you're reading this..._

What?

Pidge pulled her letter from the pile, her eyes scanning the words quickly. 

_You're a good friend Pidge..._

_... I know you'll be okay..._

_... You're going to find your family..._

_I'll miss you..._

Pidge flipped over the page, looking for more. There was no further explanation. Just a goodbye letter shoved under a mattress...

Pidge thought of Lance crying, of Lance secluding himself, of Lance hurting all the time and his progress being slow or seemingly nonexistent. 

_What the hell?_

Pidge stood up.

She wasn't sure what she was planning on doing, but she couldn't just sit there. 

Lance came out of the bathroom then, sighing, trying not to feel nervous over his situation.

"Lance!" Pidge started and she held the letter up. "What is this?"

Lance just stared, his eyes going wide.

"What the hell is this?" Pidge repeated loudly. She could feel her face starting to turn red, the way it got when she was upset sometimes.

"Why are you looking through my stuff?" Lance deflected.

"It had my name on it!"

"Well, you weren't supposed to read that right now."

"When then? When you're gone?"

"That was the idea, yeah."

"Lance, why?" Just like that, Pidge's anger burned out and her eyes filled with tears. “I know it's hard, but you're doing better and-and why would you think of leaving like that?"

"Wait, Pidge..."

"I can't- you can’t just do this Lance!”

"Pidge," Lance was moving forward, now realizing his mistake. "It's not a- uh, it's not a suicide note. It's not that."

Pidge huffed out a breath, "I'm not stupid, Lance."

"Well, I know that! Pidge, come on..."

Pidge was sure Lance wasn't telling the truth and she was scared and angry all at once and she really wished her vision would stop blurring with tears. 

With the letter in hand, Pidge stormed towards the door. She ignored Lance when he spoke and shook him off when he made a grab for her arm. 

"Where are you going?" Lance called after her, but she just walked faster down the hall. 

She felt too small and space was too big. She was going to Shiro or Hunk, they would know what to do. 

She turned a corner and slammed into someone who grabbed her arm to steady her. 

"Pidge?" Keith was startled to run into her and more surprised that Pidge looked like she was crying.

"Do you know where Shiro is?" Pidge forced out. 

"He's on the training deck. What's going on?"

"I've gotta talk to him."

"Okay," Keith turned to lead the way, but he stopped when he saw a flash of blue pajamas in the corner of his eye.

Lance hung back. Looking unsure and kind of freaked out. Keith took a step toward him.

“Lance?” he questioned, the other boy flinched slightly and then walked back down the hallway, back to the safety of his room.

"Did you two have a fight or something?" Keith asked as he turned back to Pidge.

Pidge frowned and shook her head. Keith didn’t ask anything else. Obviously Pidge wasn't in the mood to talk. That was fine. Keith understood that. 

As Pidge began to walk, she realized that Lance shouldn't be left alone. She had reacted without thinking this through.

"Keith," Pidge said, stopping abruptly. "Could you go stay with Lance? Or find Hunk and ask him to do it?"

"Yeah,” Keith's eyes darted back and forth. “Was he having a bad day?"

"Yeah.” Pidge swallowed. “I think I made it worse, but… I was just… I panicked." Pidge looked down at the floor.

"Alright. I'll go see." Keith went on his way, leaving Pidge standing alone. She took a few breaths and went to find Shiro.

 

* * *

 

Lance pressed the palms of his hands into his eyelids. He was so frustrated. But it was more than that.

He grit his teeth. 

Why did everything always go wrong?

Lance was moving and he ignored the way his back protested. He crossed his room, found his box of mementos behind the gaming system and dumped its contents out on the floor. He then grabbed hold of his mattress and pulled at it. 

His back definitely protested loudly at that. He stopped moving. Breathed, checked to feel if anything had torn or moved out of place. When he wasn't met with more pain than usual, he lifted the mattress up part way and began grabbing his letters. 

He dumped them into the box by the handful. He had been stupid to write them all down.

It had been childish, writing his mom as though he was a kid away at camp. As though he could ever send them. 

It was weird and now Pidge had misunderstood and he was embarrassed and scared of the others thinking the worst.

And his back _hurt_. 

Frustrated tears sprang to his eyes and he wiped them away harshly. The letters were spilling over from the box and his hands shook as he tried to keep them from falling. 

_Mom, don't worry about me._

Lance choked and burst into sobs. 

He shoved the letter down into the box and took deep breaths, trying to stop. _Just stop. Stop. Stop. Stop._

His door suddenly opened and there was Keith, looking unsure. Keith had been calling Lance's name through the door, but Lance hadn't heard him.

"Lance..." Keith hesitated. 

Lance ignored him. He swallowed back his sobs and picked up his box of letters. He saw Keith start to reach out, a habit now that the team had developed whenever they saw Lance carrying anything.

"Lance, what's going on?" Keith finally asked, but Lance was already moving past him.

"It's nothing!" Lance forced out as he quickly walked down the hall. He would find an airlock. Jettison the stupid letters out to space. But Keith was following him now. 

Keith wouldn't let him near an airlock. Lance changed direction, turning toward Blue's hangar. 

Blue would help.

* * *

 

Shiro had stopped training as soon as he saw Pidge. When he approached her, asking what was wrong, she had thrust the letter at him and Shiro glanced it over, but he didn't seem surprised at the contents.

"Shiro, it's a goodbye letter. How are you not upset about it?"

"I don't think this is what you think it is,” Shiro spoke slowly.

"What?"

"Pidge, it's not a... suicide note. It's more like a... just in case something happens kind of thing."

"How do you know?"

"Because,” Shiro hesitated. It wasn’t as though he had talked this over completely with Lance, but he felt like he understood. “Lance wants to go home. And he's worried about not making it back. He wouldn't do anything on purpose."

"Oh," Pidge bit her lip, feeling foolish. "But it's been really hard on him..."

"Yeah, it has. But he's still trying. He still tries. Though, I can see why you thought it was… what you thought.”

"I yelled at him." Pidge was fully realizing the mistake she had made.

"What?"

"I didn't believe him and I yelled. I gotta go talk to him." Pidge started to turn, but stopped, suddenly unsure.

"Want me to come with?" Shiro asked, already moving to her side.

Pidge shrugged. She should probably take care of it herself, but she felt better with Shiro there. Pidge nodded.

"I'll walk with you," Shiro said as he put a hand on her shoulder. She nodded again, feeling relieved. 

They were walking toward Lance's room when Pidge interrupted the quiet. 

"There was one with your name on it. Did you know?"

"I knew he wrote letters. But I wasn't aware one was for me, no."

"Right..." Pidge was gently folding her letter back up, slipping it into the envelope. "I don't want to read anything like this again."

Shiro sighed. "If I can help it, we won't ever have to read them."

They continued on in silence the rest of the way. 

* * *

 

Lance had set the box of letters down in Blue's cockpit. He would fly out and dump them into space. As Lance set his hands upon the controls he felt something warm wrap around his mind. He stared down at the box of letters, seeing the names of his family and friends on the envelopes. They were stupid. He had been acting stupid.

And yet...

They were important. So damn important that it hurt his chest.

_It is alright._

Lance slipped from the chair and stretched out on the floor. He felt a warmth spread across his back and there was calmness there. 

Lance breathed.

* * *

 

Keith had gone to get Hunk. He didn't know what else to do. Lance wasn't listening to him, but surely he would listen to his friend. Right?

"What happened?" Hunk asked again as they entered Blue's hangar. 

"I don't know!" Keith threw his arms up. "He had a fight with Pidge."

Inside his lion, Lance knew Hunk and Keith were waiting for him. He wasn't sure if it was because Blue had told him or if it was some sense he had developed from being a part of this team, but he knew they were out there.

Lance sighed, not ready to leave just yet. He was still frustrated and embarrassed and he just wanted to be left alone. There was a gentle nudging against his mind.

"No, I'm not frustrated with you, girl. You're my one and only." 

Something like laughter echoed through his mind. Blue was often amused by him. 

Truthfully, Lance's back was starting to hurt again and he needed to stretch. He was due for painkillers soon too.

Lance sighed again. He couldn't stay hidden away forever. With a groan, he pushed himself up to his feet. He would leave the letters here. He didn't think he should be carrying the box around anymore. It had been a mistake. 

Concern flitted across his mind.

"I'm alright, Blue. I just haven't stretched today."

Lance felt something like purring briefly coarse through him and immediately some of his pain faded. 

"Wow. Thanks, Blue." Lance breathed in relief as he walked out. He was lucky to have her.

* * *

 

Lance missed Hunk's bone crushing hugs. Now, Lance only got gentle hugs and shoulder pats. Hunk acted like Lance was going to break...

Which was a possibility, but still...

Hunk was talking and patting his shoulders and asking if he was alright and Keith was glaring and it was a lot to try and deal with in the moment.

"Did you get into a fight with Pidge? Keith says you had a fight."

"It wasn't a fight..."

As if on cue, Pidge appeared at the hangar entrance with Shiro. When they had found Lance's room empty, they had assumed he would end up with Blue. It was a safe place for him.

The room went strangely silent as Pidge strode forward and shoved the letter into Lance's hands.

"I'm really sorry. I misunderstood." Pidge was staring hard at the floor.

"It's okay." Lance dipped his head, trying to catch her eye. "You really weren't meant to read it. Not unless you absolutely had to."

"I know. I'm sorry." Pidge moved slowly forward, arms outstretched. Lance met her halfway, relaxing into the gentle embrace, wrapping his arms around his friend. 

"Wait, did Pidge find one of your letters?" Hunk asked. "That's what this is about?"

"You know about the letters?" Pidge asked, pulling away from Lance.

"Well, yeah, I walked into his room once and he had fallen asleep while he was writing one. He buys stationary whenever we're on a planet. You guys didn't notice? I didn't think it was a big deal." Hunk shrugged. "I write in a journal sometimes." 

 _Oh_. Shiro blinked. That's why Hunk never seemed to notice the way Lance's mattress made crumpled paper sounds. He'd already known. Shiro felt relieved that he wasn't the only one keeping Lance’s secret.

"What are the letters?" Keith asked. He had seen them, but he had no idea what the problem actually was or what was really going on.

Lance rubbed at his forehead. He didn't really want to explain it.

"Lance writes letters to his family. And he wrote us goodbye letters," Pidge supplied quietly. "Just in case." She added. Keith blinked, but then furrowed his brow.

"Why? He didn't need to do that."

"Keith," Shiro started.

"No, look, he's not- you don't need to do that." Keith turned to Lance. "You're going to be fine."

Lance's eyebrows had raised and he looked a bit taken aback by how insistent Keith sounded. Keith knew this was a war, so he had to know the possibilities...

"Yeah, alright," Lance finally said. Not wanting to argue. Not sure why it was an argument in the first place. 

"I really don't know why you kept it a secret." Hunk said, scratching at the back of his head. "I didn't think it was weird or anything."

"I don't know," Lance admitted. "They're just... you don’t think it’s weird?”

"Of course not... It's alright, y'know? If you want to write letters, it's okay. It's not weird." Hunk smiled at his friend, but didn't move to hug him. Hunk had noticed the way Lance was carrying himself too. Lance was hurting.

"Are you due for your pain meds?" Shiro asked with a frown.

"Yeah?" Lance half shrugged. Truthfully, Lance’s back was close to unbearable now. Nothing he wasn't used to.

Shiro sighed. "Alright, let's go. Coran will have pills in the infirmary."

Lance smiled briefly at him and Shiro tried not to look surprised. Lance hadn't smiled a lot lately. Even the forced smiles had become rare.

Shiro felt a sense of relief fill his chest. 

This had to be progress.

* * *

 

Lance was lying on his stomach in the infirmary with his shirt crumpled up and tucked under his chin while Coran slathered a pain ointment over his back. 

They had decided the pills might not work fast enough and Coran wanted to see if this salve was effective.

“Bought this from a specialty shop. No idea if it works on humans. We'll have to see.” In all honesty, Coran had been looking for something to supplement Lance’s painkillers for a long time. He’d been desperately searching for something that would help Lance from his consistent pain. “Let me know if it starts itching, I wouldn’t want you to have an allergic reaction.”

Lance hummed in response. It was actually pretty pleasant. It smelled like citrus and it sent a cool sensation up his back.

After a moment of quiet, Shiro cleared his throat.

"You know you can talk to us, right?"

"Hmmm?" Lance had nearly been dozing off, finally relaxing as his pain dulled.

"You can talk to us. About anything." Shiro made a vague motion with his hand. "I understand we're not your family and I understand why you write to them, but I've seen the letters, Lance. You write a lot."

"Nothing wrong with it." Lance frowned. Hunk had told him it was okay.

"No, there's not, but... If you want to have someone to talk to, I'll listen; anyone of us would. Coran would too."

Coran made a noise of agreement, though he wasn't sure what had brought on this conversation.

Lance’s frown deepened.

"I just get the feeling that you're upset when you write and I want you to know that you could talk to us. We'll listen, if you’re upset, we’ll listen."

"Writing helps.” Lance said finally. “But... sometimes it's like, nothing's enough."

Shiro nodded. 

"Yeah, I know it's hard, but you can talk to us. It might help."

Lance shook his head.

“I shouldn't complain. I should be grateful it wasn’t worse.”

"Hey, it's okay. Complain. You want to talk about how much you getting hurt sucks? I'll listen. You want to talk about how frustrating it is? Go ahead. I told you before I would listen to you and I meant it. I know, I haven’t done the best job of that lately, but I am trying. What happened to you was bad. And it was... scary. If you want to talk about that, you can. Don't think you have to hide it. And anything else on your mind too. Not just injury stuff." Shiro felt like he had said too much, but it had all come tumbling out of his mouth frantically. 

Coran was looking at him curiously. 

Maybe it wasn't just Lance who needed to talk.

"I want to start training with you guys again,” Lance blurted. “Real training. Not just stretching and walking around after all of you.”

"Okay, well..."

"I know I can't do everything, but I can't stand just being off to the side."

"Alright. We will work on that."

Lance sighed, his expression looking relaxed once more.

"I'm done here," Coran announced. "How does that feel?"

"Lot better. Thanks, Coran,” Lance mumbled.

"You're welcome, my boy." Coran turned to the current scan of Lance's back. "Everything is looking good." Coran smiled. "You're going to be doing all the regular training exercises in no time."

Lance smiled and breathed out. He hadn’t felt this good in a long, long time.

 

* * *

 

Lance didn't even know Allura knew about the letters, until she presented him with a storage case after dinner one night.

"I thought it would keep your letters from becoming too wrinkled." 

Lance had gaped at her. 

"Lance?"

"Oh, thank you. Sorry, I didn't know that you knew, okay. Yeah, this will be great, thank you."

She smiled and went on her way. Lance eyed the mice on her shoulders. Allura probably knew about the letters a long time ago. Little gossips. 

Carefully, Lance shoved the case into his room, it was surprisingly light, easy to lift, Allura must have chosen it with him in mind. He cleaned out the space underneath the mattress and the box that he had eventually retrieved from Blue. It was too hard to put the letters in order, so he ended up stacking them in unorganized piles. It was okay. It's not like he had a post office that would require him to keep them organized before sending them off. 

When he was done, Lance pulled out more stationary and set to work. He wanted to talk about the gift from Allura. He had just enough time to finish a letter before training with the team.

Training was still being adapted to suit Lance, but he was at least able to participate in most activities now.

Very, very slowly things were starting to go back to the way they were.

 

* * *

 

 “Shiro, you know it’s not your fault, right?” Lance asked as Shiro assisted with one of his leg stretches. Supporting his calf and stabilizing the heel, Shiro brought Lance's knee up towards Lance's chest. Shiro's mouth twitched as he considered the words. He gently guided Lance's leg back down.

“I could have done a lot of things differently,” he finally replied.

“Still, it’s okay. I don’t blame you. Y'know?”

“Well,” Shiro moved to Lance's other leg, bending the knee and bringing it up, “don't blame yourself either.”

Lance let out a deep breath.

“Okay. No blame. It’s a deal then?”

“It's a deal, Lance.”

Shiro stood and carefully pulled Lance to his feet. Lance was hugging him before he had time to react.

“Thanks, Shiro.”

“Thank you, Lance. Thank you, for still trusting me.”

Lance smiled at him brightly. 

_Progress._

 

* * *

 

_Mom,_

_Sorry I haven't written in a long time. Things are going pretty good. Remember those shows I mentioned we were going to start doing? Well everyone really likes them. They have dolls now that look like us. I will bring some home for the kids._

_I'm really doing okay..._

 

 

* * *

 

The space mall wasn't the same as before. Mostly because Lance was actually being recognized now. He smiled and he nodded at anyone who looked his way, but he wasn't planning on staying here long. He was just here for some new paper and he had thought that the Earth store might have some. He liked the idea of using stationary from his own planet; he could pretend he wasn't so far away from home. 

A lot of time had passed since Lance's initial injury and he was doing really well. While he still had to be careful to not over do it, he was able to train and go on missions and perform in the Voltron broadcasts. Things were almost back to normal. Well, as normal as their lives could be.

When Lance finally came to the shop, he was met with empty shelves and a few boxes being packed away.

"What happened?" Lance exclaimed. His voice startled the store owner, but when the alien saw Lance, he gasped.

"You're him! You're that Paladin! I told everyone you shopped here once and some of them didn't believe me. Could I get your signature? Paladin signatures are very popular, everyone wants one."

"Oh, yeah, uh what happened to your store?"

"What? Oh, this? I'm closing for a season. I've run out of nearly everything. It got around that many of the Paladins were from Earth and everyone wanted a souvenir from the planet. Best business I've had since I opened."

"Wow, well that's great." Lance tried not to feel sorry about not having any stationary from home. It wasn’t that big of a deal.

"It is, but unfortunately I do have to close for my trip back to Earth. I have to get new stock and I don't have anyone else to run the store-"

"Wait.” Lance felt like he had water rushing through his ears. Had he heard that right? “You-you're going to earth?" 

"Yes. For restock. It's a long trip and it’s out of the way of nearly everything, but I hope to be back before the busy season."

"Can you do me a favor?" The words were rushed and too loud, but this was his chance.

"A favor?"

"If I give you a box with some letters could you drop them off- coordinates! I can give you coordinates! Can you drop them off for me?"

"On Earth?"

"Yes, on Earth! I'll sign everything- anything you want. Everything you bring back if you want."

"Oh, well that's-"

"Please!"

The shop owner looked startled, but he was nodding slowly.

"I can do it. But my transport leaves very soon. I was just packing away these last boxes…"

"When does it leave?"

"In one varga."

"A varga, okay, I can do that. I will be right back."

Lance was gone before he could get a reply. 

He raced back to the castle, yelling half an explanation to Shiro when he asked what was going on. There wasn't time.

Lance burst into his room and fell upon the case Allura had given him. He started pulling out envelopes, regretting that he never put them in order. 

This one with the story about first forming Voltron, this other one about the mermaid planet, not the overly sad one, the one where he said he missed his mother's cooking...

Lance emptied his smaller memento box and filled it with letters instead. There wasn't time to sort; his family would just have to figure it out. 

Coordinates.

Lance grabbed the box and went tearing from the room.

"Pidge! Pidge!" Lance was shouting. 

He found her in her lab with Hunk going over something technical that Lance didn't have time to hear about. 

He explained the situation in one breath and was begging her to look up the coordinates for his home. She could do it right? She had world maps in her laptop. She could, couldn't she?

"Yes, give me a second." 

Lance took great gasping breaths while Hunk patted him on the back. Lance suddenly realized something.

"Oh, do you guys have anything for your families? If we give them to mom with an address, mom will get it to them." Lance was in a hurry, but he couldn't let the opportunity pass by for his friends.

Pidge stiffened at the remark and then continued typing. 

"I'll add something," she said quietly. 

"I'll get paper!" Lance shouted, before he ran from the room. 

A few moments later, Lance returned and Pidge handed him something like a flash drive with exact coordinates of Lance's home on Earth. She then took the offered paper and began writing. Hunk took a sheet too and set to work.

With the last of his stationary, Lance quickly wrote his own note for his mom to put on top of the pile of letters. He explained that he didn't have enough time, but that he was doing okay and his friends were okay too and could she please deliver their letters?

_Please tell my friends' parents that we're all alright._

* * *

 

Lance cut it pretty close, but he made it back in time to hand over his box of letters. He'd passed Shiro in the hallway again on his way out and he frantically gave the other half of his previous explanation. Shiro said he was happy for Lance, but he had no letter of his own to add. Lance thought that was depressing, but maybe Shiro knew Lance was cutting it close on time.

“When will you be back?” Lance asked breathlessly as the alien took his box of letters.

“I plan to return in- well, in Earth time it would be close to a year. Transports going out that way are slower than most.”

“A year. Okay, got it.” There might have been a time when being away from home for a year sounded unbelievable, but Lance knew the stakes now. Even though things were going well, he knew the war could still drag on. There was no guarantee he would be able to go home any time soon. The letters were still likely to make it home before him.

Lance said his goodbyes to the alien, promising again to sign everything he brought back. 

As Lance walked back to his room at the castle, he felt like he'd been hollowed out. 

Hunk found him leaning against a wall and crying in the hallway.

"Lance, what's wrong? Did you make it in time?"

"Yeah," Lance replied through tears. 

"You alright? Is it your back?” Even after several months of physical therapy, Lance's back pain would flare up occasionally and it was always terrifying because Lance worried about it interfering with everything again.

"No, it’s not that. I'm… really happy," Lance blurted out as he wiped at his tears, "I'm so relieved."

Hunk hugged him tightly in one of his bone crushing embraces. Lance laughed and returned the hug. He was so happy. 

When Hunk finally released him, his back twinged slightly, but the pain faded quickly and was gone before he could even fully register it. 

Lance stood up tall and he walked to lunch with his friend, feeling lighter than he had in months. 

 

* * *

 

_Please don't worry about me, mom._

_I'm not alone._

_Love,_

_Lance_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was pretty emotionally draining to write actually. 
> 
> Please do leave a comment. They sustain me and I love them.
> 
> Facepalm... so after I posted I realized I left out something important and it was a little confusing. I've edited it a bit now. So it makes more sense. Sorry about that.


End file.
